It's not freakin' fictional any more
by Alias - Eyelash - Blue
Summary: 2nd person. You, the reader, meet the flock. You thought it was just a book didn't you, she said, 'we're all in this together' remember? Well now they're here, standing in front of you, most of the time saving your life, but they're definitely real.
1. The Eraser

**The Eraser**

*****

The slight sound of raindrops pattering sweeps over the street, dusting you with a dampness you can't shake. You pull your coat closer and grimace to yourself. Even though it's only a light rain, you know you're going to be soaked by the time you get home. Now you're really regretting staying behind that extra hour. Who's idea was that? Oh yeah, the so called best friend's – you're going to murder them tomorrow. You stomp moodily down the street, stamping the pavement and glaring up at the darkening sky like it's throwing personal insults, rather than measly rain.

As you walk you realise you must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, you know where you are, but it's miles from where you're meant to be, and it's going to take you ages to get home. You begin to get that creeping feeling, tingling up your spine, and making the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You've just realised how dark it's suddenly gotten, pitch black, and the streets are deserted. Even though you can't hear any sound apart from your own rapid breathing, you start imagining people sneaking up behind you. You know it's stupid; you're being paranoid, but you tell yourself,_ it does happen doesn't it? _And you start to walk a little bit faster.

_Oh my god, what was that!_

You stop walking so suddenly you might have swayed a little, your bare hands gripping the edges of your coat tightly. You get that horrible feeling of every organ in your body suddenly freezing and then defrosting again, in the space of second, and you can hear your heart beating. You swear you just saw a dark shape dart across the road in front of you. You stand for a full thirty seconds trying to peer into the gloom, but there's no more movement. Maybe just the light playing tricks, you think, and tentatively start walking again, but you've only taken two steps when something catches your eye again. You freeze. A dog? You try delude yourself; you know the shadow was too big.

A horrible thought comes to mind, but sort of horribly funny, about a book you've just finished reading. About the monsters in it, huge werewolf-like things, Erasers they were called. You actually smile, despite your nervousness, even feel the urge to laugh. You chide yourself, for getting so caught up in your own imagination; silly, you actually thought for a second it was one of those mutant wolves tracking you. What a joke, right? Right? You think, your head whipping round suddenly, scared, staring into the shadows, as with a scuffling noise the shadow flickers past you.

You don't really _hear _it behind you, more feel it; feel it's hulking form leaning over you, hot breath on your back. All of a sudden it's there. The second you feel it behind you, you want to spin round and automatically hit it, or run away. Fight or flight. Do something. Do anything; but you can't.

It's too fast for you.

In that split second it appears, you only manage to jump in surprise, before it has you. Suddenly it's strong, solid arm is in front of your stomach, like a barrier preventing you from moving forward, and it's pressed itself up against your back. You feel fur- animal fur – and a clawed hand reaches round and closes over your neck. It's a firm grasp, just enough to restrict your airflow to the point where it starts to get worrying, but not enough to actually hurt you. You're still managing to breathe, but it's hard, and you're panting – gasping.

It towers over you, and you already feel smothered by it. You're just stuck. Just standing there, because you can't think what to do. You're at a total loss. Maybe you're in shock. Would you know if you were? You think, and yet you don't- the thoughts aren't coming. You feel fully aware of your entire body, and you know you're shaking, but you can't seem to do anything with it. You just can't move.

Then the creature slowly forces your head back, so now you're staring up at it's deformed, scarred face. You gasp again, but from shock, rather than from asphyxiation this time. You're staring into cold, hard, emotionless eyes – they are evil slits, surrounded by matted hair and fur, morphing into the snout of a grotesque wolf. It looks like a beast, but there's something human in the eyes at least, and the mane of hair only continues until it starts to space out and disappear halfway down the torso. It has the form of a man, but larger, so much larger, with giant, bodybuilding arms.

A low growl rolls out of it's throat and it's so primal you don't fully register the growl has turned into speech until the sentence is half over. "What are you doing playing out so late?" It says. It's like the images in your head have sprung to life and it takes what remains of your breathe away, so you can't answer, but it unfreezes you, and you start to wriggle feebly against the creature, but all you can do is kick pathetically as it lifts you effortlessly off the ground. "Don't worry, no one will know, because no one will see you again." And it pulls back it's lips in what you suppose it a smile of triumph, but all you can focus on is the long, gleaming, yellow canine teeth.

Now you're fighting for your life – seriously. Struggling, biting and clawing with your hands; you never thought you'd be capable of this, but you never know until it happens, and now you're almost wild with fear because your first instinct was right. It's real! It's – an Eraser! And if that part of the story is true, then the part about the wolf hybrid being able to break a human ribcage with a flick of it's wrist is most definitely true. The part about their teeth being able to rip into flesh, tearing it so easily – is that true? You don't want to find out.

A sort of half suffocated sob escapes you, as you realise your efforts are having no effect, and you can't break free. Your eyes are moist, it's getting hard to see through the tears that are gathering, yet they don't fall quite yet, like you want to cry hysterically, but you can't somehow.

* * *

"Get your dirty dog paws off her!" A voice shouts from somewhere to your right, and the world slams back into focus. _There's someone else here. _And now you open your eyes, which you didn't realise you'd closed, and the wet, black tarmac under your feet becomes incredibly detailed. You know the other person is yelling something, but all you can seem to hear is the 'plink' of solitary water droplets dripping from the gutters. The light is different now – the orange edge of dawn is weaving it's way into the night. You don't how long it's been, but it feels like you've skipped time, and lost a few hours – maybe you passed out? You don't really remember.

There's another shout and with a jerk the arms release you, and you stumble forward, falling against the wall of the building on the edge of the sidewalk, but at least you're still standing. You lean against the wall for a minute, just breathing, feeling the reassurance of the stone under you hand. You can hear the rough, tough sounds of a fight going on very close at hand, but you don't look – not yet.

You check over yourself for bruises, and scrapes – something is hurting, but you can't quite tell where yet. This is when you find out that somehow in the last few hours your coat has been torn into ribbons, and ugly gashes slide down it. You're still wearing it and it only just hangs onto you. There's blood running down your arm.

You feel the upset flip of your stomach suggesting you vomit and make yourself feel better, but you breath quietly and ignore it, still stroking the wall, getting back to reality, but it's not reality as you know it any more, because that book, Maximum Ride, has just become way too real.

There's a thump, and a cry of pain – it sounds like someone's getting beat badly. You wince every time you hear the crack of a bone breaking, and there seems to be a lot of that. This is mental, you think. This is crazy. And you keep thinking that until the fight seems to be over. You sort of hope that in the silence the apparitions have just disappeared into your fantasy world as quickly as they came, but no.

"Yeah, you keep running dog boy!" yells your unknown rescuer into the distance. And you look up to see them. And you see...

* * *

Which member of the flock have you just run into? Review. :D

A/N: So what d'yo think?

Yes, I know there's a poll, but I really liked the eraser idea, and then the next chapter will go in the order of poll results and review suggestions etc.


	2. Fang

**Fang**

***  
**

The first thing you see is a blur, if you're being honest, because the tiredness of the terror is slowly creeping back in and you can't quite focus properly; but you see your rescuer make their way towards you. As they get steadily closer, you're able to make them out better. The tall dark figure, dressed all in black appears by your side; and then his tanned face looms in front of yours and his dark eyes are peering intently at you, piercing. _Oh. My. God, _Is all you're capable of thinking.

To your extreme embarrassment, you realise you must have stumbled slightly, because Fang puts a brief hand on your arm to steady you. "You're not badly hurt, only scared," he says very quietly. Anywhere else that sentence would be inadequate, but somehow his silence is reassuring. Exactly like you imagined, he doesn't say anything unnecessary, just: "Can you run?"

You nod, pushing back the shock and saying "Yeah, I think so,"

Suddenly Fang's head snaps up, hearing something you don't. For a second he stares at the line of roofs in the distance, and his expression, without changing, seems to become grim and hard.

"We have to get out of here, right now!" The sudden urgency is startling.

Before you're fully aware of what's happening he quickly grabs for your wrist and sets off sprinting, pulling you after him. He's so fast. So much faster than you. _It's all happening so fast! _ He's literally dragging you along, as your feet scramble to catch up with his steady pace, but you're forced to keep up because he won't let go and he's not slowing. You're feet are clumsy, and you realise when the street-lamps get dimmer as the light of morning comes that you've been awake all night. The concrete and brick of the streets become a blur as you run with him. At one point his hand slips on your wrist, only to slide into the grasp of your clutching hand. He doesn't look back at you, and still he keeps running. You feel, for the second or third time in the last few hours, like you can't breathe. You're panting and gasping, but the running isn't giving up time for breath. Your arm is jolting in its socket and you think if he pulls any harder it's going to dislocate, and your wrist is starting to ache where he's gripping it so hard.

Finally he starts to slow, and you round a corner, on a grey street you don't recognise, and come to a stop. You lean over slightly, trying to get your breath back, coughing. Fang isn't even out of breath, and he's darting back and forth, but after a few seconds he seems to calm down and his stillness returns. "We lost them," he tells you. You nod breathlessly, still gulping in air. You rub your wrist without thinking, as it is sort of aching, and Fang's gaze goes to the red band where his hand was holding too tight, and he takes in your panting. A little light of anxious realisation ignites in his black eyes. He didn't realise he was hurting you, you suppose he forgot that he was stronger, faster than normal humans, and he's worried now. You try to send him the message that it's alright. He's just saved your life, he doesn't need to apologise. He looks at you for a moment or two; he's thinking, calculating, and you take this moment of stillness to try get it straight in your head.

This is _Fang. _He's standing there in front of you, perfectly real and solid. He looks exactly like you imagined he would; He's a little taller than you, okay, he's quite a bit taller. He's wearing only a light t-shirt, black obviously, and his arms are the same olive colour; you wince and see there's a large, crimson gash running from his elbow down to his wrist on the left arm, from the fight, but he seems to barely notice it. His dark hair trails down his neck, and the fringe falls just short of his deep eyes; you meet them and realise he's frowning at you. Maybe not at you, just around you, in your general direction.

By now you've got your breath back and you open your mouth to speak, but he shushes you. "Quiet," Fang says, in a soft voice, his eyes dark. "They're close. Keep going. Follow me." The way he shuts you up, orders you, like you're a little kid, actually works, and you find yourself unable to retaliate, struck dumb by his weird authority, but you guess he does this sort of thing all the time. You just end up following him meekly, as there's nothing else you can do.

This time you're walking, but quickly, down the streets. You don't know where you are anymore, and you're pretty sure Fang never does, so you get the feeling you're just walking to keep a little ahead of the pursuit, to get as far away as possible without making too much noise. Fang remains silent, eyes turned to the ground, he's concentrating on something, so you don't say anything either. You can't stop looking at him though, and feel a strange shimmer of something like excitement each time you snatch a glance and he hasn't vanished into thin air. Now the reality seems to be sinking in more. His body walking next to you is so _real, _realer than the Eraser, he's actually a person. He looks, again, like he's leapt straight from the pages of that book, though there a things about him you couldn't have imagined. You can see him shivering, possibly from the cold, and the beads of sweat standing out on his creased forehead; you never thought about those things whilst reading. The little things about people you notice when they're standing right in front of you, that you can't get from a still book or photograph; like the way he walks with his head bent slightly forward, like he's bracing for the next blow; like the fact that he brings with him a smell of pure air and fresh breeze. He's so solid when you look at him this way, but when you look away he's so silent you feel as if you're walking alone, you can't tell he's there, and you have to check for yourself. You watch him disappear and reappear under the light of the street lamps, like a dark shadow coming to life. His eyes keep flicking left and right and you notice how tense he always is; you didn't imagine him this paranoid.

Fang stops walking so suddenly you keep going a few steps before you realise. He's looking back over his shoulder down the street. "They're gone again," he says.

"Okay," You manage to speak up. "Tell me what's going on,"

Fang takes a deep breath. "I'm not like you," he starts quietly, and you wonder how much he hates saying that. "I'm different. Way different," You realise what he's trying to explain and you know you should interrupt and say you already know all about the flock and Recombinant DNA; you know how much Fang hates speeches, but you don't because you think this might be the only time you hear him say more than a sentence, and you want to savour it. It's better not to interrupt, so Fang continues haltingly. "You've gotten caught up in something big. Something you can't understand yet. The Eraser - the wolf thing- it just wanted you for a bite to eat -" You shudder at that thought, despite yourself. "But now you've seen it, and you've seen me, they're not going to let you live. Nobody is supposed to know about us, and it's better if you don't,"

"But I do know," you say finally, "I read the book, I read the blog, I know everything. I know you Fang!" His eyes narrow, he gives you a quick once over and takes a step back. "I'm on your side!" You hastily reassure him. For a second he looks like he's frozen, not a muscle twitches in absolute rock-solidness, as he reevaluates the situation. Finally, to your intense relief, he relaxes again, but his breathing is deeper, maybe more wary.

"Then the attack wasn't an accident," He says slowly, "You're involved with something and I don't know what. You - we all, need to be careful." He's looking around again, over his shoulder fleetingly. "I have to go. I'll lead them after me. Go home, lock your door,"

"I can't. I don't know where I am," You think you see him sigh or something, he seems to be getting frustrated with you, or maybe he can just hear the trackers coming, because he's getting more tetchy now. You can almost see him twitching. He pulls something out of his jeans pocket and hands it to you. It's a very small, expensive looking cell phone. "High tech Itex gear," He gives a sudden flash of a grin that makes you start, it was somehow unexpected. "It's untraceable. Call home, whatever, just _get _home, and stay there. Something bad is going on, if they're attacking humans..." He spins round full circle, his eyes darting up to the skies and up onto the roofs again. He starting to walk away backwards, looking up. "If Max calls on the cell, tell her I'm fine. She knows what to do."

You nod, your hands curling around the little black disc of a cell, realising he's about to take off and leave you... wait... _literally take off._

Fang spins round his heels, not giving you another glance and starts sprinting with full force in the other direction. This is it. _This is it!_ He becomes a black, running shape in a circle of orange light under a street lamp, and then the shape changes, morphing in the shadows and the pair of large black wings unfurl out of the t-shirt. You gasp, feeling a jump of adrenalin that must be a poor imitation of what he's getting. Fang's feet leave the ground, and he flings his arms out wide as his wings carry him up, and higher up. You stand there, gaping, with your mouth open. He soars away from you over the top of a building, and the light of dawn flashes a purple sheen over his black wings. He beats down in long, slow swoops, and disappears from view behind a rooftop like a phantom angel, and you find yourself blinking and wondering what the hell has just happened.


	3. Author Note

**This has been copied and pasted from my profile page. 07/March/2011  
**

"Hi.

I'm sorry none of this has been updated in years.

I've moved over to Fictionpress where I'm writing my own original stories. If you like my writing here, and I assume we have similar taste in books, then you might like what I'm writing now, so check it out.

I'm sending out a huge big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, and all your lovely comments on my writing. It's been so supportive and encouraging.

I'm really glad people are still reading and enjoying my stuff. Unfortunately I doubt I'll update these anymore, but I know some of them need an ending desperately. :) So I've put a poll at the top to decide which story I'm going to finish properly for you.

Thanks so much for reading,

Alias x"


End file.
